Let the games begin!
Since nothing about the opposite sex is ever easy, when a girl (moi) establishes that she might like a boy (Mr. Not So Perfect), well, that's when the "game" begins. We all know the drill, because most of us have been playing, in one form or another, since junior high. And after all these years, not much has changed--if anything, it's gotten more complicated. The "rules" are still the same: don't call back right away, never make the first move, don't be "too" available, etc., etc. Yet invariably, with every new possibility, something always manages to catch us by surprise. For example, the not so perfect guy recently threw a fast ball so unexpected and caught me so off-guard, that it was all I could do to not leave the playing field in a huff of indignation. Indeed, any "rules" playbook would have advised that I do just that. Because in the blink of a Friendster message, "Mr. Perfect" turned into "Mr. Playboy." But instead of listening to my conscience and cutting the game short right then and there, I decided to play back, in a different way, if only for the sake of research...
When we last left off, I was barely exploring the idea of chemistry with a certain perfect someone. Since then, I'd seen him at the West Hollywood Halloween parade (always great for people-watching) as he and his friends had met up with me and my friends. This was no accident. Our mutual friend knew I might be interested in him, and in her oh so savvy way made sure that he came but that he had no idea it was for my benefit (or at least, we think he had no idea). At the parade, we exchanged friendly conversation but I certainly didn't feel fireworks...just a nagging sort of what if questioning in the back of my mind. The next morning, I woke up thinking of him. After discussing the situation, my friend Niki suggested Friendster. A new medium, Friendster (along with MySpace, Match.com and all the rest), has quickly become yet another avenue in which to conduct the age old dating game. Niki and I agreed, messaging through Friendster was casual enough so that if he didn't reply back, oh well, no big deal. We carefully crafted a message that stated it was fun hanging out the night before and for him to reply if he wanted to hang out again. Whoa. I honestly don't believe I'd ever made such a bonafide first move before. But again, we figured the worst that could happen would be that he wouldn't reply. Looking back, I think we were wrong about that possibility being the worst that could happen, but I digress.
Five days pass, no word. At which point, I'm over it. After all, it wasn't his fault he didn't like me and I hadn't really invested anything so I had a c'est la vie moment and moved on to thinking about who to think about next. But then of course, just when I think the game's over...he messages back. As I'm checking my email, on my way to a surprise farewell party for Mariana (the quintessential L.A. girl who was now off to conquer NYC), lo and behold there's an e-mail from Friendster, informing me Mr. Perfect (as of that moment, at least) had sent me a message. I log on quickly, already late for the party, and what do I find? "Shaiza, the question is, are you a nice girl or a naughty girl?" What?!?!
The girls at the party are flabbergasted when I relay the story. How the heck did Mr. Perfect all of a sudden turn into Mr. Playboy? And what was I going to do about it? The girls all have various possible responses, ranging from "who the hell do you think you are?" to an "i'm somewhere in the middle" answer to his oh so inappropriate question. We are all astounded that he would have the gall to take such a...familiar tone with me. After all, I was just a girl he'd gone on a few dates with a few years ago. Good grief, we'd never even kissed! We decide at the very least to make him wait a few days before responding. I have to admit, at that stage of the game, he certainly had the upper hand. Maybe this is why I'd always shied away from making the first move. Maybe making the first move opens you up to compromising situations. Maybe I should've walked away right then and there and never responded at all. But stubbornness, or even a little thirst for vengeance had me replying, three days later, asking him why he wanted to know.
Niki and Doris were extremely wary of my response, fearing I was playing into his hands. And I may have been, but at that point I was so curious as to what he would reply that for the first time ever I threw caution to the wind and sent the message. Twenty four hours later, he up'ed the ante: "just curious. I'm always game to hang out with a naughty girl." Oh.My.God. Somehow, he managed to make his first already questionably risque message tame in comparison with his second message. At that point, even Mariana, always the one to give a guy the benefit of the doubt, stated "he's gone from perfect to pervert." So true. So what was I thinking messaging back that he'd just have to figure it out for himself and leaving my number? In one fell swoop, I'd gone from always showing restraint when it came to a guy to literally playing his game, on his turf. To be honest, I have no idea where this game will go or how it will end.
It seems to be a situation of the ends dictating the wisdom of the means. If he calls and we go out and have a normal, fun time, what I did probably falls into the no harm, no foul category. But if somehow, I end up actually liking this guy, well then, I'm in trouble and should've stayed the heck away from such a self-proclaimed player. So what's the moral of this story? There are two possible morals. If you're cynical, the moral is he or she who cares least wins. Or if you're a romantic, which is the category I fall into, the moral is there's no point to playing games because whatever you win is inevitably never worth the effort. Because what do we all want? A true, genuine connection, a real like, if not love. In my opinion, the greatest compliment a person can receive is that they are genuine, and sincere. And right now, neither Mr. Perfect Playboy nor I are being very genuine at all. Maybe at the end of the day, the only people we're really playing are ourselves. So if/when he calls...maybe I'll just say he has the wrong number. That I'm really not that kind of girl. That I'm not always naughty or nice, that I can't be classified in that way, and all that I'm looking for is something he doesn't seem to be interested in. Too bad, it could've been...perfect.
~~~ Shaiza
